Second Squad
by l0ngshotOR
Summary: Track the trials, and tribulations of 2nd squad, nicknamed 'Virgin Squad,' because it's made up of ordinary people like you and me, just trying to live through the Mandalorian Wars. Cameo's a plenty.
1. Hello, Good Luck

**Virgin Squad**

Sex. Sex was the only thing on Private Arran Gunnar's mind. He crushed his wife's body to his drinking her in, taking as much as he could from her. As he did she looked down, kissing his shoulders, teasing him. He picked her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, unable to resist any longer.

She broke their kiss for only a moment shutting the door from their two year old son, and then it was back to it.

Later on, thoroughly pleasured and exhausted, Arran lay on his back as Kiela sat on the edge of the bed, holding her blouse together with only one hand. Arran found it tough to focus on her words, distracted by her ample chest and long legs.

"I'm going to miss you. I can't be without you," Kiela said, sliding onto her stomach, propping her head up on her hands. She looked up to him, with sapphire eyes, that, if anything, was the thing he found most beautiful about her. There were a lot of other things. "Please," she said, choking on the words in her throat, "Please-,"

"Don't worry, baby. I'm coming home." Arran spoke words to the one he loved with every fiber of his being. He had been honest with her for as long as he could remember, and for once, he wasn't sure he could keep his promise. _I'll damn well try. _He thought to himself.

Kiela's head dropped as her hands outstretched to the pillow. Her face buried into the duvet, as she started to shake. Arran pulled his hand out from under the back of his head, reaching over and lifting her chin up and looking her in the eye. Tears stained the sides of her striking visage. From his face, she could tell he was extremely concerned for her. Ever since their marriage two years ago, he had been nothing if not the ideal husband. But that was going to change, soon.

The only thing that had driven Kiela away for a short time after meeting him was his family. It was a long time ago; she had only been about twelve at the time.

She'd come to his house, looking to call on him and find out if he would like to got out for the day. As she stepped in, she'd asked his father to call his name. Arran had stepped into the hallway, wiping the dark, near-solid grease off his hands. He'd been working on his droids again. She smiled and he smiled back, she quickly glanced up and down his solid body, not failing to notice the tight shirt he was wearing. He turned and walking the opposite direction to clean off.

The hallway was dimly lit, and reeked of liquor. There were red tiles, and pale blank walls. His father was much taller than her, effortlessly six feet tall, and wore a shabby leather jacket. It was a insipid yellow, with orange sleeves. He was balding, with noir hair along the edges. He was slightly overweight and was not shaven. Thank god, he didn't look anything like Arran. It was his wife though, that distracted her.

His mother had a black eye, and bruises up her arms, which were currently crossed. She stood hesitantly, submissively. Kiela felt compassion for the abused wife, who was only there because she was caught at a wrong time. Kiela looked into her eyes, and saw something that scared her more than anything else had before: She saw a broken woman. Kiela reached out tentatively to comfort the woman who was obviously distraught.

Arran's father had stopped Kiela from her efforts, pushing her backwards and towering over her in a sudden fit of anger. Before she could react, she was stunned and crossed her arms defensively, terrified. But, he kept advancing forcing her backwards, as she felt the wall. Her escape ran out.

"You, y, you com'ere to judsh ush? Huh?" slurred words had spewed out from his Father's mouth, the stench of alcohol polluting the air.

Arran's father raised his hand coming down to strike her, but a muscular arm stopped its intended path. Arran stepped between the two, using his left arm to push his dad back and the right to guide Kiela from door. He viciously forced his father backwards advancing on him aggressively. He was a little shorter than his father, but his presence was forcibly felt. While they had been best friends since they were mere infants, it was the first time she'd ever been to his house. This oddly occurred to her, his evasion of it had a lot to do with his humiliation of his family.

While they had been close for their entire life, the next words had shaken her to the core. His forfeit of his father.

"You will leave," Arran snarled, rage and fury running off of him as he remained, protectively in front of her. He stood taller, ready for any resistance his father would put up. "And never return."

They locked eyes, tension so thick; it threatened to suffocate all those in the room. Silence, piercing, deafening silence persisted throughout the entire house. Arran and the man stood hostile towards each other, father against son. Arran remained planted, with no hints of leaving her vulnerable. She took comfort, edging tentatively up against his back. After what seemed hours, his father broke the stare, submitting to his son. His father had complied, reluctantly leaving on that day everything he had once been included in. Leaving his son, leaving his wife, leaving his life behind.

Arran was fourteen.

After that, Arran had never mentioned that incident once, and she'd tried to get him to talk about it, but she only received harsh words as he flew the dispute. She stopped after he had put a hole through the wall of their kitchen.

Shortly after the hallway incident, he and his mother had been required to move from their relaxed home on Talus. Arran attended the same school as her, and it'd been that moment in the hallway, that she found out she'd loved him. Through all of secondary school, Kiela and Arran had been inseparable, only leaving their sides for minutes at a time. Friends had said they'd known they'd be married since the moment they saw the two. They both thought, Arran and Kiela that they would be together eternally.

The wedding, a simple ceremony had taken place only a few days after Arran's graduation from the Corellia Medical Institution. Only close family and friends had been involved. It had been perfect.

For two years, bliss had been upon them, living off the coast on Corellia. Arran had found a job working for a medical center, saving lives everyday. From this he was able to both support Kiela and his mother as well. They had everything they could want, a house, food, and each other.

Then had been blessed with a beautiful baby boy, whom they had named Taon.

This life, unfortunately, was not meant to be. A war was brewing on the edge of the galaxy, and the senate had told the citizens that Corellia was high on the Mandalorian's priority list. Message after message, poster after poster, rally after rally were held in squares all across the world. Recruiters could be found on every corner. Pressure was mounting on any men and women able to fight and it threatened to crush everything they had worked so hard to make. Her family had refused to talk to him, after they found he hadn't joined the effort as soon as he heard about it, causing Kiela enormous distress.

It was only after the wounded were flown in to Corellia Medical Center that Arran had signed up, though Kiela had protested adamantly. She had cried, slapped him, screamed, and left him for a short while, before realizing she could not be without him. All the time he had been a rock, taking all the abuse she threw at him, both figuratively and physically, and remained her anchor to reality. He had never pushed her away, never, once laid a hand on her and had been faithful through the whole of the four months before he was to be shipped out.

Eventually, she had returned, with tears in her eyes, realizing that he was going to go and do what he believed in. She had discovered one morning it was herself she was afraid of, and vowed never to be that selfish again. They had both come to terms with where he was going, and what he was doing, and they both found it for the best.

Which brings us to the last day together, and the last of her Arran would have for a long while.

"Did you hear me? I'm coming back, OK?" Arran looked at Kiela, and lowered his head maneuvering it until he caught her eyes. He brought them up and watched as she nodded slowly.

"OK." Kiela reluctantly said.

Arran leaned forward and locked her in a deep, passionate kiss pulling her into him. She arched her back kissing the only man that could make her toes curl. Breaking the long silence he rose from the bed, pulling clothes on. _No, no clothes, _she thought, _a uniform. _He walked out, fully dressed. She knew already where he was headed.

Arran walked down the short, badly lit hallway, reaching the pastel colorless door with Taon engraved in it. He gradually opened the door, sliding it open, and approached the infant.

Arran kneeled on the side of the crib, looking over his only child. A surge of both pride, and dread rushed through him, the realization came over him. He looked at his son, one, of the two things that kept him going every day. One of the things that kept him loving life. He leaned forward, and brushed a light kiss on the baby's forehead.

"You stay tough you hear me?" he said softly. "You keep your mother in line," Kiela laughed lightly at the doorway, tears falling down her face. "And you're the man of the house you hear?" He stopped talking, choking up, and couldn't go on again.

He bowed his head, a tear falling onto the side of the crib. Kiela rushed to his side, slipping her arms around him. They stayed there until the doorbell went. Arran turned and grasped his wife to him, never wanting to let go. He leaned forward, catching her lips and pulling away only after the bell had rung the fourth time.

"I love you,"

"I love you too." With a kiss, Arran left.

Private Arran Gunnar, Class Medic, 2nd squad, 207th.

Taris was a bustle of activity, ships crossing its surface at mind blowing speeds. The sun was hidden behind a thick blanket of clouds, and the silver peaks of the many skyscrapers stood dim. The Lower City was no exception to the daily workings and rush. It was shadowy, and musty, with a revolting odor spreading through the air.

This section of the Under City was a shadier part of the entire planet. With the constant gang wars, and outbreaks of violence, greed made it a hazardous place to live. The Beks, however, provided a safe haven for an odd assortment of aliens and dirt poor humans. Criminals, humans mostly, were banished to a dissimilar tier of living that the others of their species were used to. However this base offered to its residents a place were they could get certain amount of companionship and an opportunity to make their semi-doomed lives less damned.

Of all the species in the galaxy to be, a female, young, attractive Twi'lek was the worst. Sexual references and innuendo had been a large part of this one's life. One thing stopping it all from taking over, her friend, and guardian, the person approaching her table right now.

Mia had been sitting patiently in the bar for almost an hour now, with nothing to amuse her, except the current battle of wits between a light blue Twi'lek, and her very large Wookie companion. She was barely a child, at the most a mere eleven years of age, but the carpet was watching over her with unwavering air of defensiveness. Just a few minutes ago, another Twi'lek, green this time, had arrived and left quickly, dropping a stash of money with the kid. _Probably her pimp, _she said to herself gently, with heartbreaking sadness. She herself, had no one with her currently, but her lover was approaching now. Her heart rose up into her throat as she saw his broad shoulders and powerfully built figure coming to her. His blue lekku, hanging loosely down his chest- he shook her from her gawking as he sat down.

"Mia," he said, leaning in to kiss her.

"Grim-," Mia's words were cut short by Grimmy's lips. Grimmy finally pulled away, reluctant to say the least and looked over the stunning pink Twi'lek in front of him. She was the most gorgeous thing he had ever laid eyes on. He silently vowed that he would not let anything happen to her where they were going. He swore on his life, no harm would come to her in the war that was coming.

"Grimmy," Mia said with a smile on her face. The dark blue Twi'lek took a seat in the chair beside Mia. He slid his hand across and hers wrapped tightly around his. He thought back to how it had all started, with the lying, deception, stealing and the thirst for power that had driven them to where they were now.

"I love you Mia, and I'm sorry." Grimmy said, bowing his head. Mia released his hand and cupped his cheek, directing him to look at her.

"Don't apologize. It wasn't you fault. Things work out like they were made to." Mia said softly.

They sat like that, next to each other in a planet considered by both to be hell. What they didn't know, was that hell was just about to begin.

Grimmy heard a beeping from his pocket, as the data pad rang out in a depressing tone. He lightly kissed the top of her head, wishing he didn't have to rouse her. Lekku wrapped, and intertwined with his, he slowly unwound them and rose.

"Mia, we-, we have to leave, they're coming now." Grimmy said in a hushed tone, wishing that they had never signed that goddamn waver. But, there was no getting out of it now. No matter how much they wanted to.

Grimmy stood, looking down on her pink form, and opened his mouth to add another sorry to the long, long list. He was shut up as Mia spoke again

"It's alright, we'll be together, and we'll be fine." She rose and pressed a finger to her lips. She kissed Grimmy deeply, pressing her body to his.

Neither wanted this moment to end, for fear of what lay ahead. Not that either of them would ever admit it, the future scared the hell out of both of them, and the only prayer that left their lips for the past days were ones for each other, just hopes and dreams that they would stay together forever.

Private Mia Lyansee, Class Marksman, 2nd squad, 207th.

Private Grimsad 'Grimmy' Dellavries, Class Spotter, 2nd squad, 207th.

The _Steel Raven _shook violently, entering Onderon's atmosphere at incredible speed, determined to get the crew to location defensive base 1B45, -1246, 1694. The crew was the new members of 2nd squad.

The 'trio' from boot sat together, strapped tightly to the seats each of them occupied. Arran sat next the his new best friends he had met in Republic Forces boot camp, both Twi'leks from Taris, Mia and Grimmy. Across from him sat the new members of their new unit. There were two Zabraks that all of them knew from training. They, apparently, were two of the tightest buddies anyone had ever seen. So close, that their names were pronounced as one, 'DoubleDandAnak." Double D, obviously was a nickname given to the taller of the two, the one with the deep blue tattoos. The name must reflect something, and Arran grinned to himself, hurting his jaw with the tight band coming down from his helmet.

Arran then looked at the other Zabrak, Anak. He had yellow tattoos, and was shorter than his counterpart. He was thicker than the other, more burly. They both wore identical profession badges, identifying them as 2nd Squad's commandos.

Private Tycor 'DoubleD' Philps, Class Commando, 2nd squad, 207th

Private Anak- Dur Kipping, Class Commando, 2nd squad, 207th.

They were just about to get to know each other, as a tall, black human returned from the holo-room. He was done sending his visual letter home and motioned to Arran to go and do his.

Arran rose, and noticed the man's identification badge.

Pfc. Avery Williams, Class Rifleman, Combat Advisor, 2nd squad, 207th

Obviously he would be second in command, to the guy they all were about to meet.

Arran rose, lightly hi-fiveing Grimmy and Mia released his forearm as he went to tape his message.

He entered the dark room, with one camera and an attractive female human manning the computer. He didn't notice the glance he received and sat on the chair provided, sweating, not knowing what to say. He pulled a piece of paper from one of his many pockets

The light came on and he looked into the camera.

"K- Kiela, hey baby, it's me." He said, unaware of the tears welling up into his eyes, "We're shipping off now, to Onderon, but don't be scared, the wounded from Iridonia, were only from the first two planets in the system. It'll be a while before they reach us. Say hi to Taon for me."

He dropped his head, running his hand through his hair.

"I'm- I'm," Arran, choked up, and stopped talking.

He drew a deep breath, deciding to go through with the first thing that came to mind.

"I'm scared, baby. We all are, I just met the new people in my unit, Mia and Grimmy. They were going to get married like me and you, but couldn't. We've been on the flight for hours now, and us three haven't said a word to the others.

Arran paused, realizing he'd gotten off-track.

"I, I just want to be there with you, but I know I can't." He looked up now, hair a tangled mess and looked into the lens. His already tanned skin, seeming darker on camera, and his long hair frayed; deep rings hung under his eyes, due to the sleep-deprivation training thrust upon them.

Arran took a deep breath, stopping his shaking hand, and steadied the paper, which actually was a piece of cloth taken from his rifle cleaning kit. On it bore the words he'd come up with in a last-ditch effort to express what thing were like in this hell hole.

"We're going to fight, and the thing is, baby, we're not warriors. We're not the best of the best, and we don't live for battle. We're not elite, or exceptional, and the war doesn't depend on us. We don't individually determine the outcome of any battles, and no one expects us to do anything single-handedly. The leader at base said half of us would die by the end of the month." Arran let out a dark, depressed laugh. "Thing is, baby, we're not war machines, or warriors. We're people, nothing more nothing less; we're just people with guns. We're the grunt soldiers, the mass that makes up the army. We're people trying to protect what we believe in. We're average people; we're me, and you. We're me and you, with one slight twist: we're going into the greatest voyage of our lives. We're going to fight, and we're going to damn well try and win."

Arran looked into the camera again, graveness overtaking his features.

"Remember, baby, we're just people, and we're not warriors, we're just people, people desperately fighting to live for tomorrow."

Arran looked up, and the transmission ended. The attendant wiped the tears from the impassioned speech that was just given. Arran rose, and dried his eyes, returning to the crew transport area, nearly falling from the turbulence. He saw Mia grip Grimmy's hand tightly and he took his seat beside her.

Anak looked up at the quiet, depressed rejects he was going to have to fight a war with. He spoke, trying to lighten the mood.

"We're into it now eh?" He said, smiling. Solemn stares glared right back at him as he leaned back awkwardly into his chair.

A voice came over the intercom, causing all eyes to rise.

"Brace yourselves troops, we're landing."

OK so, now A/N: Roots is giving me a lot of trouble, so I just thought of this plot, and it fell together on paper. I thought it'd be really cool if we could get a good look at the grunt force squads that make up the majority of the army, people like you and me. So there it is, we're going to discover Grimmy and Mia's past, and meet DoubleDandAnak throughout and Avery is going to play a big role. Also, character ideas are welcome! Thanks to all those who follow Roots, and I will continue to update that as soon as I get a chance X.X

PLEASE: Read and review on this chapter, a few words is all it takes!

This is a warning, the language will be bad, especially once we meet the Sgt., so please, I'll try keep it down, but it is war people.


	2. Onderonian Resistance

**Virgin Squad**

Disclaimer: All characters in this army are my own. I don't own Star Wars, or the Mandalorian wars.

Arran stepped off the ship swiftly, right behind Avery onto the very green, very hot planet. His face contorted into a grimace at the realization at how humid this place was. According to Recad, the pilot, they had landed close to the capital, and were now to be transferred into the hands of the Onderonian Resistance, or the 'make-shift army of half-trained idiots' as Anak had so poetically put it. The six of the walked towards the end of the shuttle bay with Avery leading, him being the ranking officer. As they walked through the square, they passed the through the merchant plaza, everyone taking note of the cantina.

DoubleDandAnak were both grunting and arguing in the background about whose pack was heavier, and if they were each doing to same amount of work and all the while questioning when they would get where they were going. Arran walked silently, just in front of Grimmy, who had Mia's hand firmly held, as if for fear of her running off. Avery turned the corner, and went through an open gate and walked into the thick, sucking mud that gripped for his boots as he walked at a brisk pace for camp.

Arran, all the while in the ship had been wondering what the hell camp was going to be like. He expected much like base, strict diets, organized personnel, and a whole lot of people doing random jobs. It wasn't quite like that.

After much convincing, DoubleDandAnak finally left the confines of the city for the jungle, now thoroughly assured that we were close enough to town that nothing would eat them. The six arrived at camp, and each dropped their bags at what they saw. There were scattered pazaak games, each with their own exceedingly high wagers at tables which littered the area. There was drinking, as the smell of alcohol carried through the sticky air and threatened to intoxicate any who breathed it in. There was camo netting stretched over it all, and blocked no sunlight from hitting the ground, lighting the entire thing so it looked no more like an army encampment, than a busy cantina on Nar Shadda.

Arran stood mouth agape as Mia and Grimmy slouched back, recoiled in the shock of what the hell was going on in a damn militarized zone. Avery turned to the six and held the welcome for them all,

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the official Republic outpost of Onderon, go make yourselves comfortable, and get ready to report to the comm. tent at 1400 hours tomorrow. All good?" A few half-hearted grunts answered him, but he had had already left. However no one else had moved an inch. Anak's voice carried over the squad.

"Damn!"

"My thoughts exactly," Arran said underneath his breath.

"Sweet! This place is frakin' awesome!" He yelled, dropping all his bags onto DoubleD and breaking for the keg that was ceremoniously planted in the middle of the whole shebang.

"Not quite my opinion." Arran said half to himself.

DoubleD soon followed as Arran turned to the two comrades behind him.

"Glad they like it, come on lets find our rooms." He said, walking to what looked to be like a makeshift barrack. Makeshift, in a way that made it look like it could come crashing down at the slightest breeze, or bullets.

Arran walked into the dorm tent with Mia and Grimmy right behind, and looked at what would be their home for the next months or so. There were eight beds, four on either side, each of which had green sheets. There were poles, supporting the tent every four feet or so down the middle, and the beds were each accompanied by a small desk.

Arran stepped in and claimed the bed closest to the door, Grimmy and Mia claimed the next two beside him, and placed small bags onto the first three on the other side for the others.

Arran sat down and opened up his incredibly heavy pack, filled with clothes and his gun cleaning kit, which he removed and put on his desk. He fumbled through the medical supply kit on the top as well, which added another 22.7 pounds onto the already bulkiest pack. He flipped through the kolto packs and injections and came across the chemical sacks. Each of them with their own use, reviving, healing… killing. He re-organized the entire order of everything and committed all of it to memory. He looked for something to unpack, but couldn't find anything, so he dropped the bag and lay down on his bed.

Mia was fussing with her bag as Grimmy found Arran removing his gun kit, and he did the same. Mia did as well, and took out the black case that carried her outsized, powerful, long-range rifle. She pulled it out and laid it on the bed, it was massive and Arran wondered how the hell she carries it. She screwed it all together expertly, excepting the adapter that went on the end for only extremely long shots, and lay down on her bed as well.

Grimmy pulled out his rifle as well. It wasn't as big as Mia's, but it fired at a much faster rate, allowing him to change from spotter, to rifleman in an instant. He clicked together the stock and held it up on his shoulder. He rested it on the bed and brought out his binoc's and looked through them as well. They provided kilometer length vision, and adjusted the sight on Mia's gun accordingly. While it was tuned to his lover's gun, it could just as easily be changed and set up to help another sniper.

The binoc's range finder equations were automatically linked to the scopes shot algorithms. This allowed the two of them to be at two totally separate locations, and find the same target instantly via arrow finder on both. Also, the calculations of wind, air, planet gravity, etc. could be worked out by the spotter on one side of a ridge, while the sniper's scope calibrated instantly for the optimum shot. All this from a small piece of machinery.

Arran sat up and looked at Grimmy.

"Grimmy,"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you need to rearrange the scope for distance? Doesn't the laser just keep going?"

Grimmy laughed and sat down on the cot, tossing Arran the binocs.

"Nope Doc, laser's take too long to get to the target at the distances we shoot; so we use bolts instead. They're charged, heated, plasma coated and sent off for their target. Really, really fast."

"Huh." Arran grunted and sat back, putting the binocs onto the table between Grimmy and him.

Grimmy put the rifle down, and lay down next two Mia, arms and lekku tangling around one another. Arran lay back in his cot and thought about what was coming next.

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The tent's flaps open wildly as Arran was woken from his shallow slumber, and had fallen out of bed. Grimmy had instantly risen, however, and was ready to take on anything that decided to trespass onto what was now 2nd squad's private property. DoubleDandAnak broke through the barrier and DoubleD put his hands above his head.

"Whoa there Krakenslayer," DoubleD said sarcastically, all the while staring down the very lengthy barrel of Grimmy's rifle. Grimmy reluctantly lowered the point of the gun, and resumed his spot next to Mia.

"You'd better watch out, you could take an eye out with that thing," Anak mocked, downing the last of his drink. He passed a cup to Arran, who took it, and stared skeptically at its questionable contents. He passed one to Grimmy, who downed it without a second thought, and lastly one to Mia, who did exactly the same as Arran. Anak then reached from his pack, and pulled out three, exceptionally fat steaks and handed them out in very similar fashion.

DoubleD reached from his pack, and pulled out various spices which were well welcomed by the other three as they ate the steaks trying to take as little taste with them as they could.

Avery strode in as everyone was finished eating.

"Everything OK?" he asked.

"Yes," Arran answered, sipping the juice again. "So, what do we do now?" He inquired now.

"What do you mean?"

"What? You all just sit around and drink and eat all day? No exercises or anything?" Grimmy asked.

"Well, there's the hot-tub, oh and the full equipped gym." Avery replied acerbically. "And no one can forget the nurses. If any of you are looking for some action, just make your way to the medical tent. Man oh ma-" Avery said, with a low whistle through his teeth. Mia cut him off his a cold stare, and then sat back onto Grimmy's chest with a look of satisfaction at shutting Avery up.

"Hell, we should've moved here a long time ago." Anak said, laughing lightly.

Mia sat up now, her and Grimmy's backs on the head board.

DoubleD reached behind his head, and pulled out notes, which were skewered on one of his many horns. Arran caught Anak shaking his head at the undignified display of contempt for the poor sheets of paper. He tossed them onto the upturned keg, which they both had brought in to serve as a table of sorts. Arran glared at the letter and wondered what was on it. Interested he edged slightly towards it.

Avery tapped the keg, attracting everyone's attention.

"OK, ladies and gents, we got two extra beds, so you're all going to have to meet the members of third squad, well two of them at least, 'cause they're gonna be staying here for a while." Avery, stepped back and out the door with largely exaggerated arm motions and disappeared out of the tent. Arran looked at the Mia and Grimmy with a questioning look. They returned it with two shrugs and the same expression.

Anak caught the look and turned to the group.

"Hell, as long as they're on our side, I don't care who they are." DoubleD then nodded, and dropped all their bags onto the floor and lay back on his cot, Anak, still standing, seemingly excited to meet the new member's of our team.

Arran quickly looked at the letter. He then sat up and reached for one and read its contents. He put it back down on the keg soon, uninterested on what it had to say.

_… Sgt. Sveless, 2nd squad._

_Two hours later,_

Hell, apparently the group had thought Avery would be back within a couple of minutes, but as the hours passed each of them doubted whether he'd be back or not.

DoubleD rose from his bed, "That's it; I'm out of here, that damn music is driving me crazy while I'm cooped up in here. Anak, you coming?"

"Damnit, DoubleD," Anak rolled over, "can I get some sleep!" he yelled, tossing a pillow at DoubleD. He ducked but it hit him upside the head, and flew into the wall. Anak, dropped his head again and realized he didn't have any pillows left. He rolled aver again and propped himself up.

"DoubleD, hey, can I get my pillow back?" DoubleD chuckled as he chucked the pillow back and walked out of the tent; Arran got up and left after him.

"Hey D, I'm coming as well," he yelled as he jogged after him out of the tent, trying to match his long strides.

They walked for a bit, passing various pazaak games, drinking contests and arm wrestles. Arran looked around, noticing there were many species he had never seen before in real life. He had only seen them in medical text books and the sort. Odd shapes and voices drifted through the air as he failed to understand any of it.

"Arran," DoubleD spoke for the first time. Arran was taken from his pondering.

"Yeah?"

"Where you from?"

Arran laughed and looked up at the taller counterpart. "Corellia, you?"

"Courascant."

They walked in an uncomfortable silence as they both took a seat at of the few empty tables.

"D, can I ask you a question?" DoubleD looked up from the questionable drink they had had earlier. It wasn't half bad, but Arran was not thirsty enough to drink it again.

"Shoot."

"Well, why do they call you DoubleD? You wife stacked or something?" With this DoubleD burst out laughing, spraying all the liquid onto the table as Arran recoiled slightly. He pounded the table, which looked as if it was about to snap anyways.

"Hell, I wish!" He said as he slowly turned serious. Arran stopped the laughing that had been contagiously passed onto him. Both of them went solemn as D dictated the mood.

"Nope, no, I'm not married." DoubleD looked up at Arran, "It has to do with my school, if you have to know." Arran wrinkled his brow, confused.

"Huh?"

"Well, when my mates at boot found out I grew up on Courascant, they laughed. But when they found out I graduated from CCU, they laughed harder."

"D, that's the finest school on the planet!"

"Yep, and so when they heard I had a degree from there, they figured I'd have to be one of two things to get here," D pointed to the ground and flecked the dirt off the table.

Arran looked up and inquired silently.

"I'd have to be either Dim, or Depressed." Arran grinned, but DoubleD seemed to be more serious than he'd ever seen him from the few times at boot. "Anak told them I was both. So, they called me DoubleD, Dim & Depressed."

Arran looked up again from his drink, to find DoubleD staring into his. Arran heard a sudden scream from a tent behind him. He looked backwards for the tent. Another shriek, but this time Arran discovered it was female. He got up and ran for the tent as fast as he could, leaving DoubleD alone at the table; lost in his own thoughts.

_2nd Tent._

Grimmy woke up again, unable to sleep more than a few minutes in this weather. He sat for a few minutes, just looking at Mia who was sleeping and strewn over his body. He watched her chest rise and fall, and her body stir slightly until the flaps popped open again. He looked around, Arran wasn't here. Neither was DoubleD.

Avery burst through the door, a drink in each hand. He put one down on the desk and looked around.

"Where are the other two?" he asked, looking at Grimmy, who had one hand around Mia, one holding the large rifle ready to take a hole through Avery's chest.

"Arran and DoubleD went out about four minutes ago." Grimmy said with hints on contempt. He didn't like Avery, he was too laid back for a person who'd be leading them into battle.

"Why? What the hell? Didn't I tell you that I'd be back with the member's from third squad?"

"Yes, you did, and that was two hours ago." Grimmy said, also satisfied at shutting Avery up.

Avery looked slightly hurt, but it passed as quickly as it came as the flaps opened again and the two members of third squad walked in.

_202nd tent._

"Press harder! Don't release the hold; keep pushing down as hard as you can!" Arran screamed at the top of his lungs. "Damnit, hold still! HOLD STILL!" He shouted trying to pin the woman down while struggling with the wrapper of the Koltodifluerenzizine injections and instructing another person on how to treat the leg wound. _Fuck. _He thought to himself.

The woman reached up, thoroughly horrified at waking up in pain, and being straddled by a very large man. Arran kept her left hand pinned up against her body with his right leg. He had his teeth on the wrapper and was ripping it off when a right hook caught him on his temple. DoubleD was pressing as hard as he could on her left leg, suppressing the bleeding as her right boot caught him in much the same way.

"Get off of me!" she screamed.

Arran winced at the pain, as the taste of blood sifted into his mouth. The woman was trying to get up, when he tackled her again, straddling her once more, and finally getting the injection into her as she quieted down a bit, the pain medication taking affect. D resumed his post on her leg as Arran pulled out another kolto bandage.

The woman finally stopped struggling and looked up at him, her eyes darting from the bandage to his eyes, and back again.

"Shh, don't worry, you'll be fine." Arran said smiling slightly as he felt her relax. He looked over and caught her gaze again holding it and silently accepting her complete trust. _Better not screw it up. _He thought to himself.

"This," he said looking at her sympathetically, "Is going to hurt." He felt sick about what he was going to do to her, the pain she was going to feel, and finally brought himself to do it knowing it'd save her life. He took a few heavy breaths and looked at her again. She nodded slowly.

"One,"

"Two,"

"Three," AAAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHH!

_2nd tent._

Grimmy jerked up hearing an extremely shrill scream. Someone was in pain. He grabbed his rifle and placed Mia on the bed. Avery cut his laughing instantly getting his rifle as well, while was Anak still in bed. Avery let out a loud whistle, waking everyone else up in the tent. Anak rolled out of bed hitting the ground.

"Wha- Whats going on eh? Why you gotta do that?" He said, trying to get up. He did and took his commando machine gun off the bed.

"Someone's been shot; we're thinking we're under attack." Anak tucked the bipod in and locked and loaded again, his face going serious.

Avery stood with his back to the flaps, looking at soldiers lined up. No one was on the beds anymore. He grinned.

"Let's go."

The new six broke out the tent guns ready. What they saw, was utterly strange. Everyone doing exactly as they were. So much for the surprise attack.

Avery looked at the five behind him.

"Well, at least we were ready right? Grimmy, Mia go find out where that scream came from." Mia was right behind Grimmy, and the took off to find the source.

_202nd tent._

She stopped screaming, and DoubleD was sitting in the corner of the now empty tent, only Arran the injured woman and himself. Arran had scared everyone else out with a simple glare. D thanked him.

She had passed out, thank god, after Arran had put her out of her misery, not permanently of course, but with some difluenzy thingy. D knew, he had to pass it too him. She had screamed so loud when Arran place the patch on her stomach, he was sure he'd go crazy, that, and his ears would pop. Nothing came to mind now, except the horror of the red liquid on his hands and shirt. He sat there, unable to move, talk even think contemplating what had happened. The sticky fluid covered his hands and forearms where he had rolled his sleeves up. He swallowed and sat silent still.

Arran look at the woman on the bed. He had had to move her, because the blood had interrupted his equipment. She needed blood now. _Damnit. _He thought to himself. He finally had stabilized her, fixing up the stab wounds on both her stomach and leg. Someone had tried to kill her. The knife in her stomach had been twisted, exaggerating the wound and opening it even bigger. If it hadn't been for his work on Corellia, he wouldn't have known how to patch it up.

He had her fixed up now, but she wouldn't be better at all without some blood. He stood up and removed his outer shirt, which was soaked through in her blood. He took it off, and saw that his undershirt was covered as well. He kept that on and turned around from his patient to leave and go find some blood. Somewhere.

Grimmy and Mia burst through the door.

"What the hell is going on here?" Grimmy asked, raising his rifle to Arran.

"Whoa, stop, stop stop." Arran muttered, calming Grimmy down. Mia placed a hand on his arm, lowering the barrel.

"She had been stabbed, she needs blood, human blood OK?"

Mia stepped forward. "Well, why don't you give her some of yours?"

"Huh, well I would, but we don't have the same type. I have the transfusion machine, that changes the blood type, but I'm A-." Arran looked up at the confused stares returned back to him. "It means," Arran said, losing his patience, "the transfusion machine doesn't change its chemical make up."

The Twi'leks still looked confused.

"It'll kill her." Arran said finally, angrily.

"So, who do we look for?"

"Just find another human, with a different blood type than A-!" Arran yelled.

Mia stepped forward, obviously pissed at the way Arran was talking to them. Grimmy turned her around and shook his head. The two of them left to look for some more blood. Grimmy walked back in and grabbed Arran to the side.

"Check on D." He said and left.

Arran turned and saw DoubleD in the corner. He had just opened up a woman's abdomen, injected her, sewn her skin up and wiped the pooling blood off of her, but what he saw there, scared him.

D was pale as snow; he sat in the corner, his eyes glued to his hands, which where soaked through with blood from the leg wound. He was trembling, and convulsing slightly. His hands were shaking more violently than the rest of him, and he was muttering to himself.

Arran gradually approached him. He reached out and took his forearm. D looked up and stared at Arran with wide, blank eyes. Arran recoiled slightly.

"Did we save her?" He asked slowly.

"Yeah." Arran replied.

"Good." DoubleD said and promptly rolled onto the floor- unconscious.

-----

A/N: So, there we go. I thank the reviewers, but I can't mention their names apparently. Just, uh, just review I guess, just a few words is all it takes. Review!


	3. Rage

**Chapter 3**

Hello, everyone, I hope you are all doing great. Please excuse my lengthy update time, life has gotten the best of me, but I will continue to write. Please read and Review, your generosity is greatly appreciated. And without much further adue.

On with the show.

"You say you love your life? Prove it. Fight for it. For if you don't. You die."

Lord Revan

First Taste of Combat

Arran felt the shock of cold water hit him again. He lifted his hair back over his head once again, and reached down into the sink. He scooped up the liquid again and threw it into his face. Arran shook himself again and turned around.

His mind kept replaying the events, he had saved her, thank the force. Grimmy had returned as promised, with the new blood, taken from some hotshot kid playing pazaak. Arran had entered the blood into the machine, it had reformed chemically, and then been injected into her. It should be fine now; well, good enough.

DoubleD had had enough as well. Arran had Avery take him out, back to the tent. Hadn't woken up, but hey, Arran had seen this all before. The new scrubs, coming in just before the war casualties had. Poor kids, didn't stand a chance. Gore and wounds like that weren't something you could just ease into, and they definetly weren't something you could see all at once. Seems the only way you actually can take it, is if you're a certain type of person. At least someone here was.

"Trent wants to see you." Arran whipped around to see Avery standing by the door. Didn't like that guy, Arran thought to himself, something about him bugged the hell out of him. Arran pulled his shirt on and got his helmet out of his locker.

"Who?

"Doctor Trent, he wants to see you in tent four."

"Fine," Arran took out his rifle and stared into the dark locker at the med sack. He turned and walked towards the door, Avery moving out of the way and taking his shoulder.

"Watch out, Trent's a bitch."Arran turned again and exited the tent.

The huimidity hit him like a wall, invading all his senses as the pure heat made him start to sweat already. He walked towards second squads tent, grimacing in uncomfort. He was reaching for the zipper when he heard voices from inside the tent. He stopped and stood, pressing his ear to the door. He couldn't place the voices.

He caught onto the conversation, it was a man, probably human, and a woman, human too. He was speaking fluent basic, but Arran couldn't place the accent, same story with the female. It was muffled, but he could just make out some of the words.

"… hear there is a lot of aliens, sure … trust them? I mean, we're … battle with them, I like to … people … I fight with them." The woman was talking. It seemed that they were the ones from Third Squad. He heard the man start talking again,

"Raen, no way that Sarge would place us with a new squad. Come on, I trust Scream, do you?"

"Whatever Ulgo," she started to laugh, "If I get shot, I'm coming straight after you."

Arren leaned in to hear more when a hand landed on his shoulder. He jerked backwards, spinning and seeing Anak standing there.

"Damnit Anak," Arran muttered under his breath, turning to listen to the conversation.

"Whats wrong with you?" Anak said, stepping around Arran to the door. "What are you doing?"

Arran turned again, "Listening, whats it look like?" he put his ear to the wall again as Anak started to open the door.

"Hey, why aren't supposed at the obstacle course? You know, with the rest of us?" Arran questioned.

"Why aren't you?"

"I," Arran said, "just got out of surgery."

Anak shrugged and started towards the door, "Well, why aren't you?" Arran asked again.

"Simple, I'm the son of an Onderonian aristocrat. We just don't _do _obstacle courses." Anak opened the door.

"Are you?"

Anak laughed and slapped his thigh, finding this hilarious. "What the hell do you think?" He said as he walked into the tent. Arran couldn't place that guy, he was shifty, and it seemed he could talk his way out of anything. He was going to go far.

Arran stood, realizing he couldn't take meeting some new people now, so reasoned he should go meet Trent. Trent seemed, as Avery put it, to be a bitch. He was a seasoned vet, fighting out of the med unit. He was a doctor, great one really, but no one liked him. Arran walked towards med tent.

The med tent wasn't a tent at all, it was metal, thin metal, but metal none the less. As he walked in, it was quite open, about twelve beds in a row, with four rows. Only about three of the beds were occupied currently, with non-serious injuries. One man had a bandage on his forearm, and the next had his hand wrapped with thick kolto patches.

The third was the woman.

Arran was about to make his way over, to check on her, when a nurse walked out from behinda screen. She was dressed in a surgical outfit, and blood covered her hands. She walked straight to Arran.

"Take off my gloves," she told him. Arran took a step towards her, reached down her arms and removed the bloody gauntlets. The woman reached up and undid her apron tie, then ripped off the mask. The name tag said she was Dr. McKaasan.

McKaasan looked to be about in her late forties. She was tall, just shorter than Arran. He was slightly heavy, and it seemed like she was in charge already. Arran decided he was going to figure her out.

"Who are you?" She asked as she walked amongst the beds, making her way towards the back. Arran found he was supposed to follow.

"Arran Gunnar, Class Medic, Second Squad." He rattled off, he had lots of practice saying it while he was back at boot, and on his way here.

"Well," she said, picking up a clipboard, and started checking some boxes, and leaving some blank, "Gunnar, I don't care how you got here, but you're here now, and it's all your fault."

"What?" Arran asked, puzzled.

"Well, unless you came from north Dantooine," she stopped abruptly and turned, as Arran slammed on the brakes and had to catch his balance.

"But you don't look, nor sound the part, so you're volunteer fighter," she took off again, causing Arran to follow again.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Arran asked incredulously.

"Absolutely nothing," She said, checking some more boxes, "Why are you here?"

"In the army?"

"No, you idiot, in this tent."

"I was told to meet Trent." McKaasan turned and looked him once over for the first time. "Why the hell would you want to meet Trent?"

"I did the surgery on her," Arran said, pointing to the woman on the bed in front of them.

"Oh, that was you?" she said. "OK work, but you're going to need to work on your speed." She paused for a second and then started off again. "But hey, shes still alive."

Arran stopped at a door, with a large lock on it. McKaasan pulled on the lock and it opened. She took it off the door, and opened the door.

Trent sat at the only desk in the entire room. There were little windows at the top of the room, and the rest of it was a complete mess. Medical holocrons were spread all of the floor, and the completely filled the shelves on the wall. He had his feet on the desk, and was currently balancing a tall pole on his right forefinger. His hands were swaying back and forth.

McKaasan opened her mouth to speak, as Trent shoved a hand in the air cutting her off.

"Hold on, hold on," he said as he kept it going. The pole went to the right, as he overcompensated, making it fall and slam onto the metal desk causing a loud clash. Both Arran and the nurse jolted.

"Damnit." Trent took his feet off the table and sat forward. "Hey, Mickey, nice catch," he said looking Arran up and down, "he's cute."

"Shut up Trent, this is the guy who did the work on..." She lifted a board out from the others she was carrying, "Naomi Cilesst Ordoek,"

Trent grinned, as he began to laugh, "Ordoek, as in Ordoek Ordoek?"

McKaasan's eyes scanned up and down the sheet. "Yes."

Trent let out a large grin. "Did you do a good job?"

Arran looked at Mickey who looked back, motioning with her head for him to answer. "Yeah."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Trent looked Arran up and down, seemingly sizing him up before turning to Mickey. He dropped his jaw, and opened his eyes as wide as Arran thought he could. Trent stared at Mickey, causing her to look up from the pad she was feverishly writing on.

"Why are you staring at me?" Mickey asked in a suspicious voice.

"Why are you still here?" Trent said bluntly. Mickey huffed, put away the pad and turned, grabbing Arran's shoulder, wished him luck, and stormed out of the room.

"Oh, cutie!" Trent said, looking straight at Arran, who pointed to himself.

"Oh, don't flatter yourself," Trent said as Mickey appeared from behind and closed the door. "So…" Trent said as he spun around in the hover chair he was currently sitting in.

"What happened?"

Arran looked forward, and rolled off the account, stab wounds, indicating close quarters battle, curved Corellian intercepter blade showing motive for the crime.

"Corellian Interceptor, wow," Trent said as his eyes opened exceedingly wide in false excitement. "You only use one of those on someone you really don't like. Like really, really don't like. Like really really." Trent said as he rose. He picked up a fat, tall binder off his desk, slamming the stick onto the desk, making Arran jump again.

Trent walked forward to Arran, almost face to face. Arran felt slightly uncomfortable as Trent slowly looked towards the roof. Arran followed his eyes up to the roof and found nothing. Trent viciously shoved him out of the roof and the door shut before Arran discovered what happened.

_Trent's a bitch. _

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arran sat quietly, only listening to the low rumbling and groaning of the transport. The transport hit a bump again and the helmet fell off Avery's head again. Avery woke, again, and picked it up muttering to himself. Arren looked to his left, at the two members from Third Squad who were forced to tag along in Second's transport. He looked down again. His fingers were twitching, fiddling in, out and around each other. He knew it looked crazy, but he couldn't stop. He was quite sure he was going crazy.

Second, Third and the 12th squads were currently moving east, out of Iziz across the rolling hills of Onderon to deliver relief supplies to the border. Then to the Trenches. It was not a specific border on a map, but it was the border between pressing Mandalorian forces and the Republic soldiers. So far, we were holding them back. Arran grunted to himself. So far.

They had saved her: the woman. Grimmy had returned as promised with blood which Arran had transfused to fill the woman's veins again. He thought back at what he had done. He had saved her. That's why he was a doctor. What was Trent's deal? On the other hand, DoubleD had not spoken since, in the five days since then. Not to anyone. Arran had thought about it, but had decided not to send him to the encampment's psycologist. There were other people with bigger problems, besides, Arran had diagnosed the problem as Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Shellshock as Doctor Robbins has said as they were taking the woman away.

The woman. Arran thought about her a lot, couldn't get her face out of his head. It had happened before, after saving someone, but more often when they died. It stayed with him for a few days, then left him. He was waiting for it to leave, but he couldn't stop thinking about how she was in the transport next to their's.

Five days ago on her death bed, now in her tomb.

The woman had a name. It was Naomi. Naomi Cilesst Ordoek. Naomi. He thought it about it, saying it under his breath when a new companion shook him from his thoughts. Arran glanced up at him.

He was old, easily in his mid-forties. Grey hair dotted all over his head, as he donned a very military clean cut style hair. He was built, more so than Arran himself, and he was tall, only a small bit shorter and Arran, yet taller than Anak. He bore some scars of war on his arms, Arran had seen them while they loaded supplies onto the transports. From what Arran could gather from his files, He was in the Pilotting buisness. Flying and battling above other's heads in giant machines, but those times had ended. It didn't say why, but he was here now. Arran liked him.

"Nothing Trask," Arran said, looking past him to Third squad's medic. Now she, was young.

Raen was very young, only barely 18 maybe. Probably younger. She was a human as well, but darker than Avery. She had clean cut hair as well, and was tall. Tall as Trask, and taller than Anak, who had stopped commenting on her good looks after Trask had had a chat with Anak. Arran liked her as well.

But, as Arran had said, she was very young. He had talked to her quite a bit in the infirmary and they had become some sort of riends. Buisness friends. Co-workers. Arran was scared for her, what was going to happen to her, how she was going to change in this place. She was just a kid, a fresh face, Arran was just a kid, but hell, she was a kid.

She looked worried, and was biting her nails, a habit that drove the other doctors up the wall. She stopped and smiled at Arran, he smiled back and returned to his position, leaning back on the wall gazing across at Grimmy and Mia, who, no matter what situation somehow seemed to look like a couple. DoubleD's face was contorted into deep thought, like it always was, and Anak was listening to his music player.

They all looked relaxed. Hey, it was a relaxed mission. They were moving East, out of Iziz to the Dok trenches. After we delivered all the relief supplies, we deal with the Mandalorians who were invading from smaller outposts in the area. Then, they were to evacuate them all, and wait for a full-force assault. But that was all deep into the future. Right now, all they had to do, was to get the supplies there, and meet Sgt. Sveless.

From the reports this guy had, it appeared he was a psychopath. Textbook. He had twenty-two medals under his belt, and he had not shown up for the ceremonies on any occasion. Only one type of soldier does that. A man who just cares to fight.

With all these medals, his slate was far from clean. He had been repremanded many a time for almost everything. In fact, he should have been kicked out, but the republic needed everyone they could get their hands on.

A high pitched whistle was getting lower and stirred everyone. The group turned to Avery. He looked around at all the pairs of eyes gazing back. He smiled. "Boom," he said as the whistle ended. Followed by a loud explosion.

The transport swerved, as everyone on the left side slid out of their seats onto the floor, or onto those on the right side. Arran looked around coolly, no one was injured. Anak threw his player down and had his weapon in the ready position, as D, seemed just about as uninterested as Avery, who was now on his radio.

Grimmy and Mia picked themselves up as Grimmy yelled at Avery.

"What's going on?"

"Shutup," Avery screamed back, his hand over the mike as he turned back to the radio. He seemed finished hung up the mike, and turned back to the group. "They're only from the line, don't worry."

"Isn't that where we're going?" Anak asked increduously.

Avery's eyes opened up wide as he smiled again.

"Yep."

Trask turned as everyone was resuming their previous positions. He sat Raen back into her seat, like a father would to a daughter. He pushed her head back, securing the helmet on her head. He nodded, as he moved back, Raen's now pale face came into view.

Poor Kid.

"Listen." Another whistle, this time louder, started up as another one was ending, shaking the earth and everyone in the hold. Another explosion, louder this time.

Avery stood and opened up the small door that led to the cockpit, instead of going to the drivers, he grabbed the small ladder that led to the gun port. He sat there for a second, looking out and ducked back in.

"Don't worry, they sound closer than they really are." He stood back up.

"Shi-!" He screamed as another explosion landed and the transport was thrown to the right. The rest was cut short as Avery stopped talking and was blown back into the iron walls around him. He slammed into the unforgiving platfrom, as Arran rose from his seat. Trask got up before Arran and jumped into the gun port. The unmistakeable sound of the laser rang out as Trask let out a few beams.

Grimmy and Mia had risen as Anak and D had their launchers loaded and ready. Arran was readying the injections as Raen was opening her pack, and unloading the injections.

The passanger driver turned. They grabbed onto the two holds at the top of the door.

"Get ready, we're under attack!" With that Trask dropped from his port, and readied his rifle at the door. With the port closed, everything went quiet. The rumbling had stopped, and only Raen and Arran's voices cut the air with varied statements of 'Hold on', and 'Pass this.'

Eerie silence permeated everything. Nothingness filled everything and no one dared to break the quiet, for in it they were safe.

Nothingness.

Silence.

They heard some tapping on the other side of the blast door as something clicked and the doors shot open into a field of anarchy.

The sound started to rise as the doors were widening, and continued to grow, as Anak launched himself from the door, D right behind. The team poured out from the back the commandos immediately letting loose a few missiles that hit varying targets. Arran tourniqued off Avery's arm, which had a large piece of shrapnel protroding from it. He turned and pointed to the wall, hitting his own fist as Raen took the two steps it took and ripped the stretcher from the wall. Arran hooked his arms under Avery's and lifted as Raen did the same with his feet. The lifted him up as the ran from the transport to the metal lining that was serving as a trench for second squad and Trask.

The three reached the rest of their team as Trask yelled for headcount. Everyone replied and Arran thanked the force. They turned and looked to Trask, who had lain his rifle onto the top of the barricade and was raining fire onto the Mandalrians who had cut off the convoy.

"What the hell are you doing?" he yelled as he turned to the rest. He paused staring at them. "Shoot!"

Arran rose above the dark grey wall, and opened fire, watching as the many colored beams of energy ripped through the air, each fired at a different target. He stopped firing, dropping down, realizing his gun was over-heated. He turned, putting his back to the wall, as he heard Anak scream out incoming. The group dropped as a missile hissed by, missing the top of the barricade by mere millimeters. It tore off into the woods, where it landed, and a few trees fell.

Arran turned his wide eyes, from the woods, to Avery who was lying on the stretcher just below. He was still lights out, and they needed to get him out. Damnit.

He spun, and stood peering over the top at the battle field infront. The Mandalorians were pouring out from the woods at the top of a ridge across from them. To the right, there was road, which was bare of any cover. All five transports where currently disabled, as second squad, paired with Trask and Raen sat the furthest back on the field. Only a couple of metres infront, sat third squad. Naomi with them. On the right, two other squads had gathered with a few mechanics who they were also transporting to the line. Far, far up ahead there was another group of about four, who had lost two more, and were firing desperately, as they turned and ran back towards third squads makeshift cover.

The Mandalorians fought mercilessly, beams taking down the entire group of those returning to cover. Arran looked to the right, seeing two medics of the gathered squads treating some wounded as the others seemed to be holding back the assault. He then turned looking at who was left. D sat the furthest, on the far right. He was reloading and firing the small rockets he had with him, taking out a few enemies coldly, and methodically. Anak was setting up his heavy repeater. Mia had the bi-pod set up, and was strategically taking out Mandalorians as Grimmy had put down his binocs, in favour for his rifle. Raen sat, her back up against the metal, breathing heavily.

Arran turned and looked over the barricade again, and then dropped down before firing, a stream of beams burning through the air were his head was seconds ago. He realized Mia was taking more desperate shots, unable to stay with her rifle due to the lack of time she had. Arran had an idea.

"Mia!" Arran yelled as Mia and Grimmy both turned. "Move back!" He pointed to the woods. Mia struck in her bipod as Grimmy grabbed her arm and made for the cover of trees, only about 25m back.

Arran rolled and looked down for third squad, only realizing they didn't have a medic. Their Sgt turned and caught Arrans eyes, telling him with his hands they were moving back. Arran nodded, and turned back to his squad.

"Get ready, everyone lay down cover fire, they're coming back now!"

They all nodded, and simultaneously dropped, fully loading. They rose again and unleashed all the had. Arran screamed at the top of his lungs, letting loose all his gun could fire as third squad made their frantic break back to haven. Arran dropped, his hands burning. He ignored this and rolled as a boot narrowly missed his face, Sgt hitting the ground as their commandos set up and Arran sat up.

"Anyone hurt?" he asked Sgt. Sgt took a knee and pointed out and over the bunker,

"There."

Arran followed his hand, his heart dropping as two bodies lay in the grass. One face down, a man, the other Naomi, who lay on her back, seemingly trying to remove her back pack.

What happened next, was near inexplicable. Arran felt hot, his heart started to pound. He heard it beating, churning out blood as it blocked out all other sounds. His blood boiling, he felt intense, unexpicable inferno, and had to move to rid himself of the burning in his veins. He grabbed a man from third squad and pointed over the barricade to the bodies.

"Now!" Arran screamed as the man nodded in recognition.

Arran broke over the metal structure, his eyes only on one thing, her body. He heard the beams narrowly missing his head, as well as the missle which whined by his new-found partner who had one hand holding his gun, the other on his helmet.

Arran ran as fast as he could, but the boiling didn't let up, the burning still there in his veins. He yelled out in rage as he pushed himself harder, leaving the man behind. He reached the injured soldier first, and immediately stopped and took his pulse. Nothing. He turned and ran a finger over his neck at the partner who was just reaching him.

Arran rose from his knee and took off again, gunning right for Naomi. He saw the dust raise towards him and he jumped without even thinking about it. The beam missed him, but he came crashing to the ground, sliding to a halt just short of Naomi. He rose again, and felt a shooting pain from his ankle, which he ignored and finally reached his target.

Arran looked over her again, and saw the hole on her lower right abdomen. Just to the left of the stab wound. He reached for his injections as she turned her head again, raising her foot and catching Arran on the side of his face again. He rolled onto his side and tucked her right arm under him as he mounted her again. He fumbled for the injection, as she tried to force him off her. He dropped one needle, watching the tip break off. He reached down and caught a bright light out of the corner of his eye.

Shit, he thought to himself, as he grabbed her lapelles and rolled the the right, a missle grazing her back as he pulled her ontop and continued over in a full roll. She took this oppurtunity to throw a knee, which missed it's intended target and landed onto Arran's thigh. She threw another hook which Arran blocked and slid and grabbed Naomi's lower jaw with. He pulled her face up to his, as her eyes opened wide, and her pupils dilated.

"Stop!" He yelled has he dropped her head and she lay back. She fought no more, and Arran jabbed the needle into her and applied the patch. Arran backed up off of her and she went to stand, falling back over as slid his arms around her, lifting into a medical carry. He tapped the new accomplice on the shoulder to indicate them leaving, but even the slight tap was enough to push over the lifeless body. Arran got up.

He ran, as fast as he could, legs pumping, arms burning AHH. The inferno inside of him driving him nearly insane, he screamed again, seeking only temporary relief as they made their was back to the trench. Arran jumped the trench and dropped Naomi lightly onto one of the medbeds. He tapped Raen on the shoulder, as she was working on another patient. He nodded in recognition. And turned to Naomi. She was stable.

Arran stood and the fire was still their. He knew what he had to do now. Kill. Murder. Hunt. Destroy.

He rose above the trench and just gazed for one second, his vision focusing faster, more accurately. He fired, taking down a Mandalorian. Another. Another. Another. He couldn't stop, he was firing faster now, as fast as he could. One shot, one hit. Again. Again.

Kill.

Murder.

Hunt.

Destroy.

Arran didn't even hear the telltale whine and low whistle, nor Anak's yell of take cover. No they were drained out by the blood boiling through his veins. So when the explosion blinded him, picked him up, tossed him back. He didn't realized it. He didn't recognize it. There was only one thing. Blackness.


End file.
